


All Things Stalia

by katikat



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Drabbles, F/M, Ficlets
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-18
Updated: 2014-07-18
Packaged: 2018-02-09 10:10:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 1,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1978887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katikat/pseuds/katikat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A place to archive all the Stalia related drabbles and ficlets that I post on Tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The spooning thing.

One night he finally asked her, after she had left him satisfied and exhausted and once again curled up around him, pressing her soft breasts into his back. 

"Why are you doing this?" he whispered into the darkness of his bedroom.

She wound his finely muscled arms around his naked torso and brought him closer. "Doing what?"

He touched her hand gently, the one she had pressed to his chest, over his heart. "This…"

She buried her nose in his hair and inhaled deeply, her whole body relaxing. "How else should I keep you safe from the monsters out there?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott and Stiles and Stiles' scratched back.

Hearing Stiles hiss, Scott turned to him. “You okay?”

Stiles grimaced. “Yeah, it’s just…” He pointed at his scratched back.

"Dude. If it hurts that bad, you need to tell her to stop," Scott admonished, then stepped closer and touched Stiles’ hand to dampen his pain.

Stiles sighed, his muscles relaxing. “I don’t mind. Actually, I…” He blushed. “I kinda enjoy it? Maybe? A little?”

Scott rolled his eyes. “Alright, at least tell her to be more careful?” Then he smacked Stiles on the head. “Your kinks shouldn’t actually maim you, doofus!”

"Hey!" Stiles yelped indignantly. "Who’s maiming whom now?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sexy times!

Malia propped herself on her elbow and grinned. 

Stiles was lying next to her, limp and sated, lips swollen from where he had been biting them hard to keep quiet. He was barely conscious, his breath raspy. 

She loved that she could reduce him to a blissed out wreck. It made her feel powerful. 

Gently, she manhandled his limp body onto his stomach, then she ran her hands over his ass and licked one of the scratches she had left on his skin lazily.

Moaning, he arched his back and shuddered. "Malia…" he groaned.

She grinned again. "Ready for more?"


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Malia saves Stiles from drowning.

To escape the berserkers, they had to jump in the river, swollen from the recent downpour. 

When she finally dragged him out of the water, he wasn't breathing, he had no heartbeat. 

"No, nononono," Malia whispered. "Stiles? Wake up!" She shook him, gently at first, then harder. "Tell me what to do!" she screamed, hitting him hard with her fist on the chest, again and again, panic breaking her restraint. "Stiles!"

He choked, back arching, eyes flying open. Turning on his side, he vomited, shuddering hard. 

Petting him gently, Malia pleaded hoarsely, "Don't leave me, please, don't ever leave me…"


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott & Stiles in college.

"Stiles?" Scott mumbled sleepily when he felt someone poking him. It was late, he was tired and they had classes in the morning. 

Stiles poked him again, harder. "Move over."

Turning to his side, Scott opened one eye. "Wha…"

Lifting the blanket, Stiles slipped into Scott's bed. Pressing his back into Scott's chest, he grabbed Scott's arm and curled it around him. And then patted it. "There," he sighed, his body relaxing. 

"Stiles…?"

Stiles grumbled. "I'm so used to being the little spoon that I can't sleep alone anymore." He wiggled closer. "Now hush. We have classes in the morning."


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles gets hurt. Malia gets angry.

When she found out that he had known about her real father and didn't tell her, she ran, too hurt to listen. She left him standing there, the one she had sworn never to leave.

Alone.

Defenseless.

And now, here he was, in this white room, lying amongst softly beeping machines… 

Because while she was running, too angry to stop, assassins came looking for the werecoyote girl worth 20k. And when he wouldn't give her up, they shot him, right there. 

Touching his hand gently one last time, Malia turned away, her eyes flashing blue. 

She had killers to hunt!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Broken ribs and some pain relief.

"What are you doing?" Stiles asked, looking down at their clasped hands resting gently on his stomach and at the ugly black veins bulging on her tan skin.

Malia frowned. "What does it look like? I'm taking away your pain because you refused to go to the hospital!"

Stiles sighed and looked up at the ceiling of his bedroom. "Well, the Stilinski finances would never recover from that, they're already on life support. And Deaton did a good job wrapping my ribs, there's nothing more you can do about broken bones anyway." He paused, then added more softly, "Besides, this way, my dad does never have to know about it."

Malia just hmmed and snuggled closer to him, mindful of his injuries. It was night and Stiles' father was at work, fortunately. Stiles would prefer not to have to explain to him that a berserker had thrown him out of a second floor window. If the tree hadn't been there... He could've broken his neck or his back. What were a few broken ribs compared to that?

Stiles relaxed, the relief from pain almost overwhelming as Malia continued siphoning it away. Then he sighed and tugged at her hand. "You can stop now."

"No. I can still feel you hurting," she refused, gripping him more firmly.

"Yeah, well, I'll be hurting for a long time yet. Us normal humans take much longer to heal," Stiles reminded her gently.

Malia nodded, her hair rasping over the pillow. "Yes, and that's why Scott taught me this, so that I can help you heal."

He turned his head and looked at her. In the soft light of his bedside lamp, her eyes glittered magically. "I don't like to see you hurting," he whispered, "especially because of me."

She narrowed her eyes. "And I don't like to see you hurt, period. I guess neither of us will get what we want tonight."

Stiles huffed out a laugh. "You're really stubborn, aren't you?"

Malia smiled. "No less than you."

"Yeah," he breathed out, still smiling softly. Then he lifted their clasped hands to his lips and kissed hers. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Future fic. Stiles, Malia and their daughter Marie. And vampires.

"Dad!" Marie screamed when she spotted Stiles on the floor of their living room, curled up on his side in a pool of blood, the headless body of one of the vampires in arm's reach. 

She raced towards him, jumping over the now forever dead vampire, and dropped to her knees beside him, heedless of the blood soaking into her jeans. "Dad! Daddy!" 

Pale and on the verge of a panic attack, Marie gently turned her father onto his back, and her breath caught in her throat. His sheriff's uniform was drenched in blood, his whole chest... She couldn't see the wound but it looked bad, really bad. It seemed like he was barely breathing, white as a sheet, eyes closed. "Daddy?" she whispered and patted his face gently. "Dad?" When he didn't respond, she raised her voice and yelled, "Mom! Dad's hurt! Mom, come quick!"

There was a ruckus upstairs, more of those skinny undead creatures trying to get in. But the racket didn't last long and it ended with an awful cracking noise and then the sound of shattering glass. Marie whipped around sharply when two shadows shot by the living room window, followed by loud thumps and a terrible silence. The vampires were gone. 

And then came the sound of running feet on the stairs and Marie's mother barged into the living room, her jeans and shirt slashed and bloody. 

Malia stopped short for a moment, seeing her husband lying motionless on the floor in a pool of his own blood. But then she moved again and in a split second she was there, kneeling on the opposite side of Stiles from Marie. 

She took his face gently in her hands and leaned closer, her loose braid slipping over her shoulder. "Stiles? Stiles, wake up. Wake up. Wake up, now!" she demanded, voice urgent, and she shook him gently, one hand still on his cheek. 

Stiles' eyes fluttered and opened, looking incredibly dark in his pale face. "M... lia?"

Malia smiled widely. "Yes, yes."

He frowned. "W... h'pnd?" he groaned and tried to move, then he gasped with pain and froze, almost losing consciousness again. 

"Don't, shh," Malia ordered firmly. "You're hurt. Those damn vampires got inside, I don't know how, the wards should've held!"

Stiles swallowed. "S'ry. Jump'd me... fore I manag'd to... close th... ash." 

Malia shook her head vehemently. "Not your fault, don't worry about it. They are dead now, forever." Her eyes flickered to his slashed chest, the wounds hidden by his clothes and his hand. "But we need to get you to the hospital. Now." 

When Stiles just groaned softly and bit his lip, eyes slipping close again, Malia looked at their daughter and said in an even voice, "Marie, take the keys and start the car. You'll have to drive." 

Marie panicked. "But... I can't, I don't have a license yet!"

Malia looked at her firmly. "You can. I know your father has been teaching you how, fourteen or not." Stiles made a soft sound of protest but she hushed him. "You can do it. I know you can. Start the car, open the back seat and get back behind the wheel. I'll bring your father out, we'll get in and you'll drive us to the hospital, as fast as you can. Okay?"

Breathing fast, hands shaking, Marie looked at her mother, then down at her dad and blinked back tears. "Okay." 

She got up slowly but Malia caught her hand. "And be careful. Vampires usually travel in packs of three but there might be more out there. So, watch out." 

Marie nodded, her eyes suddenly fierce and determined, and took off. 

When her steps retreated down the hallway, Malia turned to her husband. "She takes after you. Scared that I'll find out she can drive, but say 'vampire' and she's all fire." 

Stiles huffed out a silent laugh. "Who of the two of us kept running after berserkers?"

Malia grinned, then grew serious. "How bad is it?" she asked softly, making sure their daughter wouldn't catch the words with her supernatural hearing. 

He opened his eyes slowly, then he lifted his bloodied hand from his side. Beneath it, the worst wound gaped open, exposing the whiteness of ribs. She hissed. 

Outside, the car started. 

Malia looked him in the eyes. "I'll have to carry you," she said. 

Stiles smirked. "M' knight in sh'ning 'rmor, like 'lways," he managed to whisper. 

Malia smiled softly. "Well, if you didn't insist on playing the damsel in distress all the time..."

They looked at each other for a second but it seemed like much longer. Then he nodded. 

She bent down and gently slipped her arms under his knees and shoulders. "This will hurt," she warned. Then she lifted him up from the floor. 

Stiles cried out and froze for a moment, then his whole body went slack and he passed out, his arm dangling limply. 

Malia straightened, gripped her husband more tightly and kissed his clammy forehead. "Don't worry, I'll take care of you," she promised. 

Then she stepped over the headless body on the floor and took off.


End file.
